soon launched, men straining at the oars to close the gap between the two vessels. The master gave the command to drop their anchors, and as his sailors hastened to obey, a ladder was flung over the side. Joanna recognized Hugh de Neville, one of Richard’s household knights, as he scrambled up the ladder, and felt comforted by the sight of a familiar face in this alien, inhospitable environment.
Hugh seemed just as glad to see her. “Lady Joanna, thank God you’re safe!” Ever the gallant, he insisted upon kissing her hand before answering the questions bombarding him from all sides. “When the great storm hit,” he said, pausing to take deep, grateful gulps from a proffered wineskin, “our ship and three others managed to stay together. It was a week ago today that we were approaching Cyprus. A sudden squall came up and drove us toward the shore. Our ship’s anchors held, but theirs did not and they were swept onto the rocks and broke apart. Many drowned, may the Almighty have mercy upon their souls. Some clung to the floating debris and managed to reach the beach, battered and halfnaked from the waves. We could only watch as the local people—God-cursed Griffons—came out and took them away.”
Hugh paused to drain the wineskin. “King Richard had warned us that Cyprus was ruled by a tyrant, an ungodly man who preys upon pilgrims, extorting ransoms from the wealthy and enslaving the poor. So we feared for the survivors and sent a small landing party ashore at dawn, hoping to discover their whereabouts. By the Grace of God, the first one we encountered was an elderly priest. None of us spoke Greek, but he had a smattering of French. He managed to convey to us that our comrades had been taken prisoner. His agitation and his gestures made it clear that we were in great danger, so we retreated back to our ship. After that, all we could do was wait . . . and pray.”
“You acted wisely,” Stephen said, catching the undertones of remorse in the other man’s voice. “It would have served for naught to join them in their prison. One of our sailors is from Messina and Greek is his mother tongue. We’ll send him ashore after dark to see if he can learn where they’re being held. Once we know that, we can decide what to do next.”
Hugh’s face was sunburned and gaunt, a raw, red welt slashing across his forehead into his hairline. But his smile was radiant with relief. “When we saw your sail, we dropped to our knees and gave thanks to God for answering our prayers. Where is the fleet? When will the king get here?” His smile fading as his words were met with averted eyes and utter silence.
JOANNA’S COMPANIONS were convinced that her weakened state was due in large measure to her inability to keep fluids down or to get the rest her ailing body needed. Mariam had brought along a store of useful herbs and persuaded her friend to take a sleeping draught after drinking a cup of seawater, which was said to aid those suffering from mal de mer. Whether it was because they were now anchored in the relative calm of the bay or because she’d reached her breaking point, the draught worked and Joanna fell into a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted almost eighteen hours. When she finally awakened, she was surprised to discover it was now late afternoon on the following day and even more astonished to learn that she’d slept through a gaol break and a rescue mission.
Much to Joanna’s relief, she found that she needed a chamber pot for its proper purpose and not because she was overcome by nausea again. Beatrix and the young widow Hélène helped her to dress as Mariam perched on their clothes coffer and told her of the day’s eventful happenings.
“Whilst it was still dark and there were no sentries on the beach, Stephen had Petros rowed ashore. He seemed remarkably cocky for one going alone into the lion’s den, but young men ofttimes seem to have more courage than common sense. It was arranged to pick him up at nightfall, but he suddenly appeared on the beach in midmorning, astride a mule. He rode it right past the startled guards and out into the bay! At that point he and the mule had a difference of opinion, the mule wanting to return to shore and Petros to continue on.